


My Heart, Your Poison

by ScarletEyesInTheNight123456789



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Soulmates, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletEyesInTheNight123456789/pseuds/ScarletEyesInTheNight123456789
Summary: After returning from the Dark Continent, Kurapika runs into Chrollo again in Yorknew. Unfortunately, things take a turn for the worse.
Relationships: Kurapika & Alluka Zoldyck, Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight, Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Kurapika
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41
Collections: Hunter x Hunter, Hunter x Hunter Fanfiction, KURORO LUCILFER (Hunter X Hunter)





	My Heart, Your Poison

**Author's Note:**

> This will be told in second person from Kurapika's perspective.

The sky is falling, or at least that’s how it feels to you. One minute, the sky was the same unassuming blue as Alluka’s eyes. The next minute, the sidewalks of Yorknew began rippling with raindrops while you began your search for the aforementioned girl.

Right after you returned from the Dark Continent mere months ago, Killua began asking you to watch his fourteen-year-old sister every time he took on a hunter job. At first glance, you know you seemed like the perfect babysitter to Killua. After all, if you can handle a bratty teenager on an endless shopping spree or a royal infant with thirteen siblings all out to get her during a relaxing cruise (if only), then surely Alluka Zoldyck shouldn’t be an issue at all.

The thing is, Alluka is quite something to deal with. And you aren’t a traditional babysitter – you don’t like hovering and nagging – which means you aren’t very effective. Instead, you prefer to let Alluka run off so that you can then discreetly follow her and figure out where she’s going and who she’s meeting. But at least you’re good at tracking down her sullen, chaotic _nen_. It’s unique, easily identifiable, with all its streaks of black marring the faint pink hues. There’s something in that life force that makes you uneasy, jolts you with cautiousness and forces you to notice it. Every time you sense it, you wonder what happened to the sweet girl who once looked up to you.

But you know the answer to that, don’t you? You pushed her away the way you eventually push everyone away.

When you’re led to the doors of a nightclub, you stop still like someone’s just knocked a hammer into your lungs. You went looking for her aura, but found something else in addition to that. Something quite different.

His aura is unlike anyone else’s that you know. It’s filled with contradictions. It has a music of its own. It’s a whisper that stops and starts, then picks up its pace, before building up into puffs of smoke. You think of secrets, silence, absolute enigmas.

Because that’s exactly what he is. An enigma.

You don’t give it a second thought before flashing your hunter license at the bouncer guarding the entrance, the only thing keeping you from your enemy, one you haven’t seen since you were seventeen years old, forcing your judgment chain into both his and Pakunoda’s hearts. Flashing your credentials at others isn’t your style, but sometimes it’s necessary. And you’ve done much worse before anyways.

Once you’re inside, you budge your way past crowds of drunken people, half of whom don’t even appear to be of the legal drinking age. The music is alarmingly catchy, some hip hop song that Leorio tried to show you once. Although your eardrums might be rendered useless soon, due to how loudly the rhythm pulsates and reverberates off the walls.

But all of that is a distraction. Your target is right behind the bar, his aura a curtain of black, painted with streaks of blood red. The thing is, the last time you saw him, there was no hint of crimson in that aura. Something has changed.

Oh, how unassuming he looks as you approach. Black jacket, white button-down, silky midnight blue tie – all ways to create the illusion of a normal person, one whose name isn’t associated with any wrongdoings. He’s even wiping down a glass with a cloth, playing the role of a diligent bartender. He must seem perfectly relaxed to the giggling women eyeing him from the opposite end of the bar, but you know better. The slight tension in his shoulders and the flaring of his _nen_ are proof enough that he’s been waiting for you ever since you stepped foot in the establishment.

You take a seat directly in front of him, sitting perfectly straight before the bar. Those dark eyes are still death itself as they meet yours, but something about them is unusual this time. He’s staring at you as though you’re a mirage, something he isn’t quite sure exists.

“What’s all this?” You gesture at him and his getup and the bottle of wine in his hands, but then you look away. Because looking at him always makes you want to fling something across the room and cause a scene, and you have just a little more sense than that.

Chrollo smiles, but it comes off as forced. It’s strange. You’ve never known him to play pretend, so you file the information away in your mind. “I should ask the same of you, Kurapika.” Of course he wouldn’t tell you what he’s doing. If you had to guess, he’s probably pretending to be someone important, in hope of stealing something valuable as part of an elaborate scheme. After all, could someone like him be up to anything all that virtuous? He rids himself of his jacket, folding it like a prim and proper gentleman. “Why don’t we go somewhere else to talk?” The way he says it, one could almost think that the two of you are actually on good terms. No mass murderers ruining anyone’s childhood here.

You watch him carefully, curious to find more signs of his distressed state of mind. “There’s no need for that. I only have one thing to say to you. Stay away from me.”

“My, my. You were in such a rush to tell me that? Well, I have no intentions to stir trouble with you, as I don’t see a reason to.” You want to leave, to be rid of him, but a wild urge to keep an eye on him persists. As long as you’re in the same city as him, he’ll be in the back of your mind like a lingering ember. He’s watching you the same way he’s always watched you – unblinkingly, as though he wants to study you and make sense of you. But there’s something more there – a hint of vindictiveness before he blinks it away. “On a different note, I wonder if you’ve made enemies with someone else. What a coincidence that you should walk in at the same time as that powerful _nen_ user.”

That’s when you remember the real reason you came here. Not to shirk your responsibilities.

You watch as he makes his way around the bar, loosening his tie as he does so, until he’s leaning against the counter right next to you. Surely he’s not on a break right now. Some employee he is. “Alluka is hiding from you somewhere on the dance floor. Why don’t I help you find her?”

In a split second, you’re standing (not even close to matching his height) and gripping his arm tightly enough that he should be in fear of it snapping. “How do you know who she is?”

The sounds of obnoxious laughter and drunken chatter in the background grate on your ears, the aggressive beat of a new song vibrates throughout your veins, and people around you are starting to stare. All of it only worsens your mood. And then there’s Chrollo, and the deep purple strobe lights cutting a line across his angular face, highlighting the attractive features that you suspect he’s skilled at using to lure and deceive. “She comes here often. Plenty of people like to strike up conversations with bartenders, you know. She’s mentioned your name plenty of times.”

“That is highly inappropriate –”

Chrollo sighs as though you’re incredibly tedious to listen to. “Believe me when I say I’ve tried to get her to leave many times – I find children to be boring conversationalists. But alas, it never works, as she’s a lonely, brooding teenager in search of someone who supposedly understands her.”

There’s nothing more to say to him. You abruptly let go of his arm and turn around, wading through the large groups of people in your way, even shoving a few aside. As you do so, you sense him following you idly. Does he really have nothing better to do?

Just as you enter the dance floor, he catches up to you. “Is there no one here that you want to dance with, Kurapika?”

His tone is mocking. You turn to him, wondering why you’re even mustering the energy to talk to him. “Am I really so interesting that you can’t bring yourself to leave me alone?”

That’s when you notice that there are flecks of pale blue mixed in with the sultry gray of his irises. You almost want to call it pretty, but you’ll do no such thing. His cologne is ridiculously overpowering – an enticing scent that you’re not sure how to describe because you aren’t too well-versed in men’s fragrances, considering you don’t wear them yourself. But of course _he’d_ be fancy and over-the-top enough to use them.

“Kurapika.” Why does he keep using your name? It’s irritating. “Your body language appears to be rather hostile. People are staring.” He’s laughing, and now you see a ribbon of red in his eyes, just as subtle as the flecks of blue. “Maybe if we dance, they’ll stop.” He places a hand on one side of your waist, but you don’t shrug it off, for the simple fact that you want to know what he’s up to, what he seems like he’s bursting to say. From the way he’s acting, he must have some purpose for being so close to you. There must be some vital piece of information about a mutual enemy that he wants to whisper into your ear so that no one else hears.

So you let him place his other hand on your waist too just as a slow song comes on (seriously?). You’ve never felt such spite before. He probably has a lot of dance moves in his arsenal, but knows that he’ll be as good as dead if he tries any on you. You’re not moving at all, nearly as stiff as solid concrete, feeling your scowl deepen.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” You roughly step out of his embrace. Of all the things you expected him to say, it wasn’t that. He chuckles before you can respond – he must see your disbelieving expression. “If not, I’m sure you will soon. There are several things I know about you that you’ve never told anyone else.”

Is he unraveling? You used to think Chrollo was at least somewhat sane, but maybe that isn’t the case anymore. “What are you –”

“For instance, I know that you gave one thousand jenny to a homeless man last week because he reminded you of your deceased father.” Your breath catches in your throat, but he continues, a gleam of something indescribable in his eyes. “You also have recurring nightmares about your friend, Pairo. And you hate the rain because it reminds you of the time I held those two boys hostage – the same day that you killed Pakunoda.”

He looks dazed, but very much awake, and the curve of his mouth is completely straight. No smile of any kind anymore. You take several steps backward this time.

Thankfully, he makes no move to follow you.

………

You’ve never been one to have dreams. But nightmares have always found their way to you. 

Before the Black Whale docked in Yorknew Harbor, your nightmares were overflowing with scarlet eyes and death, relics of your past. 

But tonight, after dragging Alluka home without any attempt at scolding her, things are different. You wake up later that night, blond hair falling into your eyes as you place a hand over your violently beating heart, the image of your foe so clear in your mind that you could almost imagine that he’s right there with you. His name almost falls from your lips with rage. 

The small bedroom is suddenly suffocating as you learn how to breathe again. The noises of the city from ten stories below filter in through the open window, slowly reminding you that you’re awake now. 

None of it was real. Him following you through dark alley after dark alley. The Aries constellation, bent and scattered across the obsidian sky, serving as a backdrop for the blood dripping down Chrollo’s fangs. The searing, electrifying pain as the venom-filled sharpness pierced your neck, turning you into one of him.

Vampires. _Honestly_. And Chrollo as one? If your memory serves you correctly, he certainly used to dress like a vampire, if such creatures even exist. Then again, you don’t know what he wears these days when he isn’t bartending (by the way, you still can’t wrap your mind around the idea of him working part-time) – he could have had a sudden change in fashion sense, for all you know.

You close your eyes and try to fall back asleep, but the dread lingers within you, almost like a gut feeling.

The last thing you think of is the scarlet in his eyes, and how it perfectly matches his new, eerie aura.

.....

It’s obvious that something’s on Alluka’s mind the next morning. Something’s always on her mind, and it’s difficult to blame her. 

When you enter the kitchen, she’s there, dumping spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee. The only reason you even buy sugar is to prepare for the times when Killua takes on a hunter job and needs you to look after her. 

“Oh. Hey, Kurapika,” Alluka says, barely glancing up to look at you. You can’t help but see yourself in her. You were the exact same at her age. The same persistent glare used to enter your features too, directed at poor inanimate objects that never did anything to you (a coffee mug in this case). But it’s understandable. Just as the world once wronged you, it’s wronged her as well. 

“Good morning. Someone’s up very early.” 

She glances up, and her budding smile disappears. “What happened to your neck?”

......

The bathroom mirror shows blood dripping down the side of your neck, streaming out of four puncture wounds that certainly weren’t there when you woke up. If that weren’t odd enough, there’s no pain either. 

And for some reason, Alluka can’t stop laughing. “So. There aren’t any traces of _nen_. Doesn’t seem like anyone broke in, either. Does this mean what I think it means?” You step outside to see her leaning against the wall, a wet washcloth in her hands that she immediately hands to you. “Did Leorio pay you a visit and take things too far?”

These days, Alluka is largely unrecognizable from the girl she was even a few months ago. And there are times when her new personality proves to be quite challenging. “It’s not appropriate for you to be saying things like that at your age.” She rolls her eyes. Of course she does. Killua’s been an excellent influence on her. “But this is unexplainable.” It’s ridiculous as well. Comical, even. And, on top of that, your brand-new white button-down is now drenched in scarlet and completely unwearable.

You want to track Chrollo down right this minute, because there’s no way that he doesn’t have something to do with this. But you can’t leave Alluka by herself and put her in danger. This can wait until next week, when her visit will be over. It’s not like this is an immediate threat – staying vigilant should be all you need to do for now.

But you keep thinking about him. It’s not a choice - more like something dictated by the invisible drug flowing through your veins. Images come to you, but they can’t be anything that your mind would have conjured up on its own. If you let your mind wander, all you can see is him. A frost-colored complexion, full and inviting lips, and haunting eyes. 

…….

 _Soulmates_? It can’t be true. But you’re unable to concentrate all day, thoughts of him running through your mind unbidden, like a curse that you can’t break free of.

You love Alluka to pieces, the same way that you love Gon and Killua and Leorio. You would die for her the way you would die for any of them. She’s a spark of life in your usual routine, tearing your Zodiac documents from your hands (you weren’t able to concentrate on them anyway) as she bounces onto the sofa next to you, grabbing the remote. She always reminds you that life exists outside of your vengeful mind, even if you don’t give her as much attention as she craves.

But right now, you wish she would just go away. It’s the third day since that dream, and your mind is growing more and more scattered with each hour that ticks by. The only thing keeping you from running away to find _him_ , the only thing keeping you clinging to this moment, is your sheer will.

Soulmates. There’s no such thing as soulmates.

It seems that Alluka is in one of her better moods at the moment. The question is, how long will it last? “There’s this new anime about detectives. It’s totally up your alley, Kurapika! Something about _shinigami_ and magical notebooks.”

“I’d love to, Alluka, but I’m busy –“

“Pshhh. Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?” Oh goodness. Sometimes you swear that it’s Killua’s spirit inside of her, not Nanika’s. 

Before you know it, you and Alluka are watching the first episode. The main character reminds you a lot of Chrollo. The voice is fairly similar, and his morality is just as questionable. It’s rather amusing. 

But in a split second, your lungs are burning, and it’s becoming more and more of a fight to blink Chrollo away from your mind’s eye. Your mental images of him are becoming scenes, fantasies, of you pressing your lips to a neck that feels ice cold, pulling back to see an upside-down cross on his forehead.

Suddenly, you can’t remember what your name is anymore. Does it really matter, though?

Does anything matter except for him?

“Kurapika, do you wanna go for a walk?” You don’t know who Kurapika is, but Alluka’s looking at you as though it’s your name, and she sounds happier than she’s been in a long time. Why? Because you spent time with her? But what if you don’t want to spend time with her anymore? What if the only person you want to see is him?

……….

She’s a smart girl, but she can be oblivious sometimes. She doesn’t notice your state of mind, your silence, as the two of you walk to the park around the corner. She’s simply ecstatic that you said yes.

Then, you realize that you don’t remember what her name is either.

Cars pass you by as you walk on the sidewalk, and you can’t help but pay close attention to the dreamy expression overtaking her face as she takes in your surroundings. _What if she’s thinking about Chrollo_? She has no right to.

You’re his, and he’s yours.

Without any warning, the girl next to you has been struck across the face, and you think you’re the one who did it. There’s a red mark right below her left eye now, and all you can think of is Chrollo and the scarlet that washes over your vision whenever you remember his name.

She stands there, staring at you with shock, but you leave her.

You leave her to find him.

………..

You don’t know how you found his apartment, but you did. He’s in the foyer, dressed in the same sort of suit as before, as though he was just about to leave for the nightclub.

Vengeance is written in his features, but you don’t care. Even if he wants to destroy you, you don’t care, because you’ll let him.

You release one of your chains, and it wraps around his neck. You tug on it roughly, pulling him close to you, and his name rings in your ears like a silent mantra. All you need is for his lips to catch yours.

It’s easy enough for you to decide what to say next. “I want you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that was certainly a strange fic to write lol. I'd love to know what you guys thought of it!
> 
> Also, I read through this a few times after posting it and realized that certain parts might come off as confusing, but I'm not sure. So, feel free to ask any questions about the story in the comments below :)


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